What Is Love?

    

                                                    "The Two Fridas," 1939 by Krida Kahlo.

  What is true love? What is a soul-mate. Who is the "one?" Is there a one, a two, a three, or even a four? Is there a limit to the amount of times actual love presents itself to you?
 These are probably questions more suited for Shakespeare, Neruda, Deee-Lite, or even Sylvia Plath.  Nevertheless, we humans will never stop trying to wrap our heads arounds these enigmas and ponderings.
     I know for a fact that that Romeo & Juliet, time-stands-still, love-at-first-sight thing does exist. It has happened to me.  Once.  At The Limelight, of all places.  It was a wrinkle in time that felt as if I was on the set of a large scale Hollywood production. Time literally stopped, things turned black and white and then, after our eyes locked everything sped up like a car crash.  In that moment a thought flashed across my mind that said "you're going to be together for a long time." Unfortunately, fate was not so kind.
     I was young, dumb and struggling with heroin addiction so even though I know deep down that those feelings and that moment were real I was incapable of sustaining a healthy anything, let alone relationship.   Unfortunately, despite the circumstances, those were the feelings that I used as an emotional  barometer for all future relationships.  It took me many decades to recognize the flaw in this formula.  It's still my default mode when I'm feeling like things aren't working out - only now I recognize that and can let it go.  Comparing current situations to past events is a no win situation anyhow. All the factors are different, and, why would I want to repeat something anyway? Isn't it better to have new experiences that are not yet defined and categorized?
     That relationship really only lasted about three months. I couldn't keep it together and ended up going to rehab. Luckily, my life was saved by getting sober but my exes was not. He committed suicide about a year later. That had nothing to do with me - he was HIV+ and AZT (it was the early 90's) almost killed him. He saw a glimpse of what he thought his future would be like - hospitals, and sickness, he couldn't take it. It's extra sad since nowadays people that take care of themselves live long healthy lives with HIV.  Just like I've learned to live with alcoholism even though it's trying at times.  So, clearly, nothing at all was ideal about that relationship except those magical feelings in the beginning.
     Usually, that animal magnetism or desperate-can't-live-without-you mindset cannot last. It burns out quickly and fades fast. It's the relationships that are quieter and simpler and, thus, easier that last.  That being said, when two people that love each other dearly grow apart and go their separate ways there's always that voice inside that wonders if love is lost and, maybe, if it's all just some Disneyfied illusion.  I suppose the trick is to not lock yourself in a heart-shaped box and bury your head in the sand.  I have to believe that if I love myself then I will attract love into my life.
     The past 4.5 have been an incredible journey.  I had a huge revelation that the reason why I kept attracting unavailable people was because I was the one who was unavailable.  I was keeping my self "safe" even though what I was really doing was creating my own pain.  Once I recognized this and did the work it took to move past it, things magically shifted.  I felt whole and I completed myself - I no longer needed anyone else to fill in what I was lacking.  Because of all that work I met someone and easily entered into the longest, best relationship of my life.  I was no longer looking and yet I found something great.
     Unfortunately, we came to a major crossroad and, it seems, we are going in different directions.  It's sad, it hurts, it seems unfair but it's so much better to acknowledge that things aren't working then to go on hurting each other.  I have no idea what the future will hold and I'm trying not to succumb to the negative desire to erase this experience completely and delete it from the hard drive like some "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" experiment.  I suppose for now that I'd rather be alone then pretend I feel alright.